Little things that piss me off

Rain

Cab drivers who answer their cell phone while driving

Cab driver you have to give directions to...
-One time I was staying in downtown Toronto, and had a 2:00 pm soundcheck at Canada's Wonderland. I was told by my overworked and underpaid bass tech to simply get on the 401 and go north until you see the signs. Ok, so I get in the cab, it's about a 30-45 minute drive I am told, at 12:oo pm allowing myself two hours to get there. Minutes after I get in the cab, my cell phone rings and I am told soundcheck is pushed ahead an hour, to 1:00 pm. No problem, I figure, as I have allowed myself two hours to get there in the first place. I be lieve I have plenty of time. So, we are driving, I am reading a newspaper, then I take time to look out the window. We are on the highway. Then I notice a road sign. Highway 407. Hmm, I think to myself. I ask the cabbie, whom I have already given instructions to take me to Canada's Wonderland, off of Highway 401. I say, "aren't we supposed to be on the 401? Why are we on 407?" He says "they are the same." this seems dubious to me, but I think to myself, he lives here, I don't, and he is a trained professional. So we drive on, and after about 45 minutes, I begin to doubt his navigational abilities, as I am not seeing anything remotely like a theme park. I as again if he is sure where he is going. He says yes. I ask if maybe he should call his dispatch, just to be sure. He says he knows. Now, when I see signs that say "Aurora, Next Left" my limited sense of geography kicks in and I say, "maybe we should look at a map" He reaches under his seat and whips out this huuuge mapbook, then hands it back to me. I now realize that I am in a bit of trouble. I phone my tourmanager, who hails from Toronto, to tell him of my situation. "Dude, I am in a cab, I think we made a wrong turn, I see signs that say Aurora" well, he starts laughing like I am crackin wise on him. I now tell the cabbie to pull the hell over. Of course, he now sees the error of his ways. Oh, and by now the meter is at about $80.00. We pull into this rest area type place, he still won't call his dispatch for directions or look at the map book, which I am quickly trying to decipher. So what brainstorm does my hapless cabbie have? He starts walking up to people in their cars and asks them in broken english how to get to Canada's Wonderland. By now I want to drop a world of hurt on this guy, but I think to myself if I do, he will just leave me here, and then I am truly fucked. It is now 12:55. So finally we get pointed in the right direction, I have figured out the mapbook, and now he is taking wrong turns again! I point to the map repeatedly, but he reacts like I am showing him nude shots of his long-dead granny:15 pm. Meter-$145.00. Tour manager calls. "Where are you? What do you see?" I see cornfields!" Finally, 1:30, I am at the gates of Canada's Wonderland. Meter is at $160.00. I jump out of the cab, with no intention of paying this guy for my senic tour through Ontario's back country. Get on stage under the steaming glare of the band's singer. We play one song, everything is sounding great. Play another, without vocals, the singer comes in late, I change on time, so I get the look of death, like it is my fault for his screw up, global warming and the fact that Bush is still president. I of course say nothing, as he is a tightly wound character looking for someone to unwind on. Even my drummer came up to me after our ten minute soundcheck that took me 90 minutes to get to, to inform me that I was indeed playing correctly. Oh wait. It gets better. So remember the cabbie I left at the gate? Well he sat there for a couple of hours waiting for me to get back so I could pay him. For real. My tour manager came to me on the bus to inform me of this and asked what he should do. I said, ok, let's take what the trip would normally cost, subtract what it cost in lost wages having our crew of 12 people standing around waiting for me, not to mention the staff at the venue, and see where we stand. OK, he says, and off he goes. About an hour later, he comes back to tell me that the police were here, and they wanted to arrest me, and my tourmanager, for fraud, or some other bullshit. But it was all eventually smoothed over, and now I take the bus.

There are lots of other little things tha piss me off, but I have been rambling for far too long. They will have to wait for another day.